A walk in the woods

A grand day out yesterday.  Very cold up on Exmoor but bright enough to tempt me down with camera in hand to visit Snowdrop Valley near Wheddon Cross.  By the time I'd traveled down the sun had pretty much disappeared but it was still worth it.  I enjoyed the rare delight of playing my choice of music loud (Scritti Politti's Anomie and Bonhomie, completests) without disparaging comment from family members on the way down and the two or three mile walk was good for me.

Topped off with a great curry, a dreadful film (Knowing) and a couple of glasses of red wine, it was good to take the day off - the first for over a week.  Even then it was tempting to just do a few odds and ends; work is unending and not without it's challenges.  But we are not machines - even church ministers are subject to the laws of work and rest. 

Then this morning read this - 

Sabbath is not dependent upon our readiness to stop.  We do not stop when we are finished.  We do not stop when we complete our phone calls, finish our project, get through this stack of messages, or get out this report that is due tomorrow.  We stop because it is time to stop.

Sabbath requires surrender.  If we only stop when we are finished with all out work, we will never stop - because our work is never completely done.  With every accomplishment there arises a new responsibility.  If we refuse rest until we are finished, we will never rest until we die.  Sabbath dissolves the artificial urgency of our days, because it liberates us from the need to be finished. 

We stop because there are forces larger than we that take care of the universe, and while our efforts are important, necessary, and useful, they are not (we are not) indispensable.  The galaxy will somehow manage without us for this hour, this day, and so we are invited - nay, commanded - to relax, and enjoy our relative unimportance, our humble place at the table in a very large world.  

Do not be anxious about tomorrow, Jesus said again and again.  Let the work of this day be sufficient.

Sabbath says, be still.  Stop.  There is no rush to get to the end, because we are never finished.

Wayne Mueller - quoted in Peter Scazzero, Daily Office, p. 107-8.

Seems I did the right thing.

Consider the flowers of the field...

Sabbath - the one commandment that's optional?

Halfway through sabbatical,  I now feel that I am now batting, rather than ducking for cover at short leg.  Suppiah hits a six against Durham.

With my job comes the great privilege of being on sabbatical for three months every seventh year.  And here I am, towards the end of my seventh year, and yesterday marked the halfway point in my three months.  How did I mark it?  I went to Taunton to watch cricket for the day and at around two o'clock I toasted my sabbatical with a pint of beer.  I took some reasonable pictures -  more to follow. 

I am becoming used to people in the congregation asking how my holiday is.  And I don't resent that at all.  While I am doing some study and reading and visiting other churches and ministers to try and pick up some fresh ideas, I have also taken it easy too.  I am walking the Cotswold Way, have watched two games of cricket in a row, I've taken hundreds and hundreds of photographs, tried to get the garden in some sort of order, and had the luxury of not being on duty on a Sunday or at a single meeting in the evening.  My Dad thinks I've retired early.  It's been great.   

In truth it took me about five weeks to fully unwind.  That sounds ridiculous but I offer it for the benefit of any ministers who might stumble across this.  Mine was a tiredness that wasn't going to be remedied by two weeks in the sun.  In fact it took five weeks in the rain. It might take others longer.  

I started off feeling guilty about being off and disorientated by living without deadlines.  That has gone and now that I have the ability and opportunity to relax I am doing so - without shame or guilt.  I'm still doing the study and reading etc, but I'm also having a great time too, making the most of this gift of time.  

Ministers are often pretty poor at taking their days off.  I am actually very good at it - religious even - and I was still exhausted by the time sabbatical came around.  A friend who is a minister has been wise enough to take a month out to recharge and their church were happy for this, recognising the need.  Another minister friend is just back after a sabbatical that became ten months away because they were so burnt out.  It's hard for others to get their heads around but being a minister is tough.  Exhilarating, frustrating, wonderful, funny, desperately sad, unpredictable, privileged, and sometimes it just breaks your heart - assuming it hasn't become hard.  Sabbatical is a good time to restore your factory settings and go again.  

Trego launches one; one bounce into the boundary boards.

If you are reading this as the member of a congregation, and your minister hasn't had a sabbatical, or they aren't good at taking days off, ask them why.  They probably need someone in their corner to push them a bit on this.  He or she almost certainly gets more criticism than encouragement each week, and that wears down anyone after a while.  Encourage them to take time out, they'll love you for it. 

Meanwhile, I have got to go.  The Test match isn't going to watch itself.